Ode To The LOST And FOUND --
A pale moonlight night made his sapphire eyes sparkle wondrously,
This tall, scruffy, figure of man was soon to be known in the future, so broadly.
For his relieve, he took a slug of whiskey to ease the chill that came over the night,
It was time for this working class nobody to rest himself up, for tomorrow’s work on the building site.
Tom Stewart Baker, a middle aged man without any faith to fulfil his wishful destiny,
In the end, his dreams were getting him nowhere in live, dreams that weren’t supposed to be.
Tom and the rest of the workers; they were only paid a minimum wage for their job as builders,
It wasn’t enough to last him over the autumn and winter. He thought on trying something else that would be better.
On the very next day, he wrote a letter to the head of Drama, demanding that they give him a job,
Barry Letts had gotten Tom’s letter, it was the last he had read for the day. Tom waited and sobbed.
Barry said to his wife that night: ‘Good God, it’s Tom Baker again, demanding if he could work for the BBC.’
His wife, who has known Tom as a dear friend, suggested in giving the working man a try, and then they shall see.
Tom called in the very next day, his stomach was throbbing painfully and he felt like running away,
Too late, the head of drama and the writers of the sci-fi show ‘Doctor Who’ got in his way.
Tom’s nerves were shot; he thought he wouldn’t handle the job as being the next Jon Pertwee,
But he waited for the result to come in, after his short interview with the writers of the BBC.
The head of drama was interested with Tom’s comments on the book her was currently reading,
Later on, the BBC have finally named their successor for ‘Doctor Who’, Tom had then started grinning.
He wandered his way back home blissfully; freshly fallen tears fell out from his eyes,
Tom was burning with an all new passion so dazzling; there was no way it could be disguised.
So joyous and so dazzling, like a young child’s wondrous eyes,
They behold many extraordinary things from each of his previous lives.
He stands in present time, a tall figure of his fourth incarnation,
The most eccentric child by far. Well, at least this particular renaissance.
Like an enchanter, he would enthral distressed people with his powerful voice,
They would raise their heads; take heed in his words, because they have no choice.
Wild and ostentatious this man may be, he shows every colour of his mood,
But there’s no one that really understood him, for there is no one that could.
People either love him or hate him, many would consider him as a bane
In the end, everyone will know him; everyone would grow to know his name.
Midi file this page "Street Hawk."
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